


hello, welcome home

by erinyes_grace



Category: UNIQ (Band), VICTON (Band), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, angst angst angst, but i really loved the prompt :(, flower language is super cute, flower shop owner!seungwoo, im sorry, singer-songwriter!seungyoun, there is also fluff i promise, wooseok appears and yohan is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22492318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinyes_grace/pseuds/erinyes_grace
Summary: Seungyoun doesn’t know how much longer he has. He turns memories into letters for the love of his life, Seungwoo.Seungwoo misses Seungyoun every day. He is determined to find the letters, the last remaining pieces of Seungyoun left in this world.—it’s okay (even when i start fading)—it’s okay (even when tears fall down).
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Han Seungwoo
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34
Collections: 99&UP Fic Fest





	hello, welcome home

**Author's Note:**

> title inspiration: billie eilish, khalid—lovely.
> 
> enjoy the read :)

I. it’s okay (even when i start fading)

Through the square glass window near the bed, sunlight spilled in and cast a golden, almost dreamlike haze over all the cold machinery in the room. Seungyoun could feel how much weight and life he had lost over the few weeks he spent in the hospital. He could feel every single tube going in and out of him. His entire body was throbbing, almost in perfect timing with the rhythmic beeps of a machine next to his bed.

He was tired.

After much effort, he turned his hazy eyes towards the love of his life. The other man was bent over at the side of his bed, using his arm as his pillow as he soundly slept, with his head turned towards Seungyoun.

Seungyoun wanted to reach out—he wanted to touch his face, stroke his hair, kiss his lips for the last time, but his body seemed to belong to someone else. He felt his fingers twitch, but he knew that was probably the most he could manage. He could not bear to turn his gaze away from the man sleeping beside his bed; how he wished that they had more time.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

Seungyoun lost count.

His vision became filled, overflowing with Seungwoo, Seungwoo, Seungwoo. He used the last of his energy to move his lips. At the sleeping figure beside him, he mouthed “I love you”.

Eventually, he could see nothing. As his consciousness faded away into darkness, he desperately held onto one thought.

_I love you… I love you… I love you._

_Seungwoo_.

II. it’s okay (even when tears fall down)

Even the sky seemed to be crying that day.

Seungwoo didn’t know what was going through his mind, or if there was anything at all. He remembered staring at the framed picture of the man he loved the most, beaming at him with that pretty smile of his, eyes crinkled. Seungwoo felt as if his entire soul was empty; perhaps a robotic shell was all that was left of him. His tear glands seemed to have completely dried up. All he could register was the dull throbbing in his left chest, and it was the only thing to make him even feel alive.

Seungwoo didn’t know how he got home that day. It felt strange going into the space he shared with someone else, but that someone was no longer there. That someone would never set foot in their space again. Seungwoo scanned his eyes over their living room. Was everything always this dull?

Seungwoo bent down and picked up the garments that littered the couch—they all belonged to the younger man. His things were still scattered everywhere, but it felt like _home_.

Seungwoo was folding up a jacket— _his_ favourite one—when he spotted the corner of something white peeking out of a pocket. Thinking it was a receipt or a memo, Seungwoo pulled it out.

He froze. It was an envelope, with an all-too-familiar handwriting scrawled over the front.

_“To Seungwoo-hyung_.”

A sharp pain coursed through the left side of his chest. He felt like there was a hand around his heart, squeezing so hard that he couldn’t even breathe. With trembling fingertips, Seungwoo tore open the envelope and took out the piece of paper inside.

> _Dear Seungwoo-hyung,_
> 
> _I really really reeeeeally hope you found this. If you didn’t—nope, I don’t even want to imagine that. Anyway, how are you feeling? I… probably have left, right?_
> 
> _I have left some letters for you in places special to us. If you can’t find them, I will be very disappointed, hyung. So it’s kind of like a challenge to you! Seriously though, I wanted for myself, and for you too, to remember the happy times we’ve had together._
> 
> _I… also wrote you a song. When you find the last letter, I will tell you where my song to you is._
> 
> _My second letter... is in the place where we met for the first time._
> 
> _Yours Always,_
> 
> _Seungyoun._

Seungwoo felt like he was drowning. Of course he remembered; the memory was so freshly imprinted in his heart that he didn’t dare revisit it. But he had to, for… Seungyoun.

He walked downstairs to the flower shop he owned—the place where he first met Seungyoun.

He remembered his cheeky smile as he walked through the door. He remembered his glinting eyes as he bowed lightly in greeting. He remembered his shy words as he asked for Seungwoo’s recommendations.

Many came to buy flowers from him every day. But Seungyoun was… special. Seungwoo had never seen anyone like Seungyoun.

When he walked in, it was as if all the light in the room had been drawn to him, to illuminate his entire existence. Seungwoo would later come to realise that the other man had that effect on everyone that set eyes on him; he seemed to have been born to _shine_.

Seungwoo sometimes wished to not remember every detail about Seungyoun so vividly; but he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Memories were all he had now.

Seungwoo’s eyes softly brushed past every corner of the small space. Everything was as it was. It almost seemed like Seungyoun was still around; almost as if the younger male was about to waltz in through the door and pester him about some little thing or another.

He forced a smile—at what, Seungwoo didn’t know. Perhaps it was more for himself than anything else. Seungwoo blinked hard to clear his mind and got to work, searching messily through all the potential hiding spots for the letter.

Under a ceramic vase near the counter, Seungwoo saw a familiar white corner sticking out. He knew that his hands were shaking as he lifted the vase—it was probably a terrible idea to drop it. The small envelope, as the one before it, could almost entirely fit in his palm. He lifted the flap holding the envelope closed and slid out the flimsy piece of paper.

> _Dear Seungwoo-hyung,_
> 
> _Do you remember? Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t have found this letter. How dumb am I, haha._
> 
> _You know, when I first saw you standing behind the counter, I was intrigued. I wondered why someone as handsome and graceful as you would be here, working in a tiny flower shop. Was it because you loved flowers? If that were the case, I thought to myself that we wouldn’t get along too well, since I hated flowers._
> 
> _Now that I think about it, we should be grateful to Yohan, since he was the one that bribed me to get those flowers for him to give to his girlfriend. If he hadn’t, we wouldn’t even have met. Although, maybe you won’t think this way. If we’d never met, you wouldn’t have been affected by… all of this. You wouldn’t even know me, I guess. But I think I’m honestly thankful towards him, since if it weren’t for him, these past few years of my life would have been filled with darkness, an endless void that I’d have spiralled into. Of course, I’m the most thankful for your presence in my life, but I’ll save the sappiness for later._
> 
> _When we first met, I stood in front of the counter, slightly on my tiptoes because I realised that you were just a tiiiiiny bit taller than me. I asked you, in a small voice, what people usually got for their girlfriends. I remember feeling super flustered, because I’d never done something like this before. But it was your soothing voice that calmed me, telling me that it was normal to be nervous. I think I blurted out that it wasn’t for my girlfriend, that I didn’t have a girlfriend—and I remember your surprised face, with your eyebrows slightly raised._
> 
> _Do you remember the flowers you recommended? You brought out a bouquet of lavender roses, telling me that they meant love at first sight and that they would be great for my friend to give to his girlfriend. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think I felt your eyes on me when you said that. I took your advice and bought those roses—I think Yohan’s girlfriend was pretty happy with them, although I don’t think she knows till this day that it wasn’t Yohan that got them, haha._
> 
> _After that, I remember coming here whenever I had free time, or whenever I was in a slump over my music. You gave me the best inspirations, hyung. Every time I came by, I knew you could tell that I wasn’t in the best mood, so you would joke around and talk about random things to take my mind off work. I don’t know when exactly I fell in love with you; perhaps it was as early as then. I realised that someone actually cared about me and was willing to help pull me out of my own dark little world. Even if we were just friends, I would have been complacent, no, extremely happy just with your existence in my life. You were my light, Seungwoo-hyung._
> 
> _I want to write more—we have so many memories together, just from those first few months—but I have to go. I can hear your footsteps on the stairs. I can’t risk you finding out about these letters now, so I will have to lie to you. Sorry, hyung. I want this to be a surprise._
> 
> _Sorry if my handwriting gets a bit messy, but I really need to finish telling you where the third letter is before you come into my room. It’s in the place where we kissed for the first time. Quite simple, really. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t know where that was. Good luck, hyung._
> 
> _Yours Always,_
> 
> _Seungyoun._

Seungwoo’s eyes lingered on the paper, now warmed by his body temperature as he clutched it tightly in his hands. The fold-lines on the pages were messy—it seemed like Seungyoun did indeed finish off in a hurry. Seungwoo’s eyes softened. The other man was always so cute, no matter what he did.

Their first proper kiss… It was in their kitchen, wasn’t it? Seungwoo hurried up the stairs, three steps at a time.

It was after they confessed to each other, and Seungyoun had wanted to make him dinner for the first time. Seungwoo himself was a decent cook, so usually he took care of everything involving pans and stovetops.

Perhaps typical of the younger man, it was near impossible to tell what was in the pan after the ingredients went in raw. Seungyoun had stared down at the floor as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

Seungwoo had closed the gap between them with one big step and tipped the other’s face up to kiss him. It didn’t matter that the food was inedible; his heart was full just at the thought of Seungyoun trying so hard _just for him_.

Now, there was only a terrifying emptiness that settled in him.

Looking around him, it seemed that every corner of their little house was filled to the brim with fond memories. It just didn’t seem real that the other man was _gone_.

Seungwoo took a deep breath and set out to look for the next letter. He rummaged through drawers full of knives and other utensils, swung open cupboard doors filled with white china bowls and plates—nothing. There was nothing that even resembled an envelope.

Silent panic crept upon Seungwoo. It had to be here. There was no way that he remembered wrongly where their first ever kiss was—

No, that wasn’t their _first_ kiss, technically. Their first actual kiss had been before any of that had happened, but he didn’t think Seungyoun knew.

Only a few months after they first met, they had already built a routine, with Seungyoun coming over for dinner once a week and Seungwoo cooking for the two of them.

About five or six dinners in, Seungyoun had pushed opened the door, precariously dangling a bag full of soju bottles between two fingers as he pulled a tired smile at Seungwoo. He looked more gaunt than usual, Seungwoo noticed.

They brought their dinner to the tiny rooftop patio above Seungwoo’s shop. _Alcohol tastes better under the open sky,_ the other had insisted.

Seungyoun did most of the drinking, and Seungwoo did the listening. In an adorable half-drunken slur, the younger man ranted to him about things that weren’t going well for him in his composing.

The evening breeze caressed their skin, sending light shivers down their bare arms. In the distance, Seungwoo could make out the shimmering city lights that seemed to have a life of their own.

_Hyung_. Seungyoun suddenly turned to him, eyes sparkling brighter than the distant lights. _You’ve never heard me sing, right?_

Smiling, Seungwoo nodded his head gently.

The plastic chair beside him creaked as Seungyoun leant back. _I’ll sing for you, hyung._

Face tinted a faint pink from the alcohol, Seungyoun began singing as he stared into the bright dots dancing over the horizon.

> _We’re transparent_
> 
> _I can fill in any colour_
> 
> _When I am almost giving up_
> 
> _Tell me it’s okay_
> 
> _There’s no other place_
> 
> _I think you are my happiness_
> 
> _It feels like I’m_
> 
> _Feels like I’m in heaven_
> 
> _This place that no one knows_
> 
> _My swimming pool_
> 
> _All day you are swimming here_
> 
> _When you look at me_
> 
> _I can’t do anything_
> 
> _You make me crazy_
> 
> _You divin’ in my pool_
> 
> _Waves surge in my heart_
> 
> _It seems like you’re the only one in here_
> 
> _You’ll be like I’m the one._

A long silence fell between them after the younger man had finished singing. Seungyoun was undoubtedly a great singer. Seungwoo hadn’t studied much on music, but he still found himself immersed in the smooth texture of Seungyoun’s voice.

Seungwoo turned to look at Seungyoun, only to find that he had dozed off, head drooping towards him. Sighing softly, Seungwoo reached over to fix the other’s messy fringe.

As his fingers brushed across Seungyoun’s forehead, he found himself staring into the other’s half-open eyes. _Seungyoun-ah_ , he called. The younger man didn’t move an inch.

Seungwoo didn’t know what overcame him. Lightly holding the other man’s face in his hands, he leant down and gently touched Seungyoun’s soft lips with his own. He lingered for a brief moment, then forced himself away with furrowed brows.

It had already been three years since then. Seungwoo had always thought that the younger didn’t remember what had happened since they never talked about it, but it turned out that he might have known this entire time.

With some effort, Seungwoo pushed open the narrow door leading to the rooftop. The sun was shining today, casting a blinding blanket over everything in sight. It was so different to that night, when Seungyoun was still here, when he was singing for Seungwoo as they drank. His skin felt hot to the touch from the sunlight, but he shivered uncontrollably.

His eyes came to rest on a small metal box in a corner, right beside the same chairs they had sat in that night. He didn’t remember putting any such thing there.

His fingers made contact with the heated metal, barely registering the burning pain on his fingertips. There was a simple latch on the box holding it closed. Seungwoo flicked it open with ease and as he thought, a lonely white envelope laid inside. He took out the paper inside.

> _Dear Seungwoo-hyung,_
> 
> _I guess you found this! Good job, by the way. You went to check the kitchen first, didn’t you? I bet you never thought that I would remember every single thing that happened that night. That was way before we started dating, wasn’t it?_
> 
> _I remember going to your place every week, and you would cook for me. I loved your cooking, hyung. I’d knock on your door, and I’d hear your running footsteps down the stairs. You’d open the door, wearing your cute Snoopy apron, and smile at me. I’d ask you what we were having for dinner, and you’d tell me it was a secret. And every week, you’d cook something different, from kimchi fried rice, to sweet and sour pork, to spaghetti Bolognese. I loved everything you made._
> 
> _My biggest regret is probably not ever learning how to cook properly from you. I’m sure you remember the dreadful taste of the first dish I ever made—if you can even call that a dish. I still find it cute how you insisted on tasting it, even though it didn’t look appetising at all._
> 
> _When we sat down at the table, I used to tell you about my week and you’d listen, sometimes offering gentle words of advice and sometimes just an encouraging smile. Even before we dated, you already gave so much more than you received. That was one of the things I loved about you—how you saw the world in such an unfiltered, genuine way._
> 
> _That time… I had a long day at work before coming over. I’m not sure if you remember what I told you that night while we ate—I do tend to ramble often, I know—but I had been stuck on a song I was composing. It was the song that I sang to you that night, “Pool”. I’d only sung to you a part of it, the one part that I’d completed and didn’t hate. Somehow, after that night, inspiration just never stopped coming. I couldn’t get your face out of my head as I worked on the song._
> 
> _I couldn’t stop thinking of how you leant down to kiss me. I couldn’t forget how your lips felt on mine, even though it was only for a brief moment. Perhaps, I had already fallen for you then._
> 
> _I’m afraid I have to end this letter here, hyung. I have to leave in ten minutes for a doctor’s appointment, and I’m still sitting here on the bed in my pyjamas._
> 
> _I left the fourth letter in a place related to our first ever fight. This one is honestly easy, but I’ll give you a hint anyway. I asked another person to take care of it until you went to them._
> 
> _Yours Always,_
> 
> _Seungyoun._

Seungwoo folded the pages in his hands. There was only one time that they had a serious disagreement, from when they met till—

Biting his lower lip, Seungwoo refused to let that trail of thought continue.

He knew where he had to go.

If it involved another person, then it must’ve been Wooseok. Wooseok was a mutual friend of theirs, having gone to school with the both of them at different points in time.

The incident happened on a rainy day, Seungwoo recalled clearly. Seungyoun had walked in through the front door of the flower shop, soaking wet. Seungwoo remembered shaking his head as he threw a dry towel towards the dripping mess standing at the front door. Seungyoun had looked up through the wet strands of hair that half-curtained his eyes, grinning widely as he caught the towel in mid-air.

The other only made half-assed attempts at drying his hair. Seungwoo walked over, slippers lightly slapping against the wooden floor. He sighed and grabbed the towel out of the younger’s hands. _Do you want to catch a cold?_

_No._ Seungyoun blinked innocently, but the smile in his eyes gave him away.

Seungwoo gently pressed the towel into Seungyoun’s hair, internally sighing—Seungyoun was twenty-six this year, yet he still acted like a child. Seungwoo wouldn’t deny that this side of Seungyoun was what had attracted him at first, though. As Seungwoo dried the front parts of the fluffy head in front of him, he noticed the dark circles under the younger’s eyes. _You didn’t sleep again, did you?_

The fluffy head suddenly turned downwards as Seungyoun tried to avoid his gaze.

_How many times do I have to tell you before you listen, Seungyoun-ah?_ Seungwoo placed a finger under Seungyoun’s chin, lifting his face to make him meet his eyes. _Sleep is important._

_So is my work! I have to finish the song I’m working on before Monday, but I still don’t have enough inspiration._ Seungyoun jerked his body out of Seungwoo’s grasp and took a step backwards.

Seungwoo turned around and walked back into the shop. _Your body is more important than your work, Seungyoun, you know that._

A heavy silence hung in the few metres between them. Then Seungwoo heard a _click_ behind him as the door was unlocked, and muted shuffles as the other put his shoes back on.

_I thought you understood me, but I guess you don’t._ A voice lined with harshness filled the space in between them. _You’re just the same as everyone else, after all._

The door slammed shut, leaving only echoes of Seungyoun’s words.

Still facing away from the door, Seungwoo felt a numb pain as his fingers dug into the towel in his hands.

Some hours later, Seungwoo’s phone rang. He remembered being hopeful—maybe it was Seungyoun, he thought.

It was Wooseok. Seungwoo frowned as he picked up the call. Wooseok wasn’t the type to call him unless—say, someone was dying.

_Good evening, hyung._ A slightly cold voice rang out from the other end. _Please come collect your little boyfriend._

Seungwoo heard muffled choking sounds coming through the speaker. He felt his cheeks warm up just a tiny bit.

_Seungyoun’s sulking on my couch._ Seungwoo could hear the impatience in Wooseok’s voice. _I don’t know what happened between you two, but please sort it out before he decides to have a slumber party here._

_I’ll be there in ten._ Seungwoo bit back a smile as he shoved his feet into his shoes that laid neatly by the door. Bidding goodbye to Wooseok, he threw his phone into his pocket along with his car keys.

Seungwoo’s feet came to an abrupt stop just as he was about to step out of the door. He furrowed his brows, before snapping his head towards where delicate bouquets and vases of flowers sat, along the walls of his shop.

He walked over. His fingers traced lightly over different petals, some brilliantly coloured, some calmingly plain. Seungwoo rubbed his fingertips together as he felt the wetness from the petals, frowning.

His eyes came to rest on a lone blossom nested amongst a sea of flowers. Its petals were a creamy white, with a bright yellow centre that Seungwoo knew to be hiding inside the shyly folded petals.

_Gardenia._

Seungwoo gently plucked the flower out of the bunch and wrapped its stem with clear wrapping paper. As he got into his car, he laid the single gardenia flower down on the passenger seat, careful not to damage it.

It was about twenty minutes after the phone call that he finally got to Wooseok’s house. Seungwoo hesitated before ringing the doorbell, knowing full well that he was likely to be met with retorts from Wooseok about his lateness.

As Seungwoo steeled himself, the door in front of him creaked open. A head full of messy hair poked out.

_… Hyung._ Seungyoun stepped outside and closed the door behind him. _Wooseok said to uh… take it outside, whatever that means._

Seungwoo ignored the burning feeling on the tips of his ears. He coughed as he mentally prepared an apology speech. _Seungyoun-ah, I’m—_

_Hyung, is that for me?_ Seungyoun interrupted, eyes lighting up. He seemed to have noticed Seungwoo’s poor attempt at hiding the flower behind his back.

Seungwoo extended his hand towards Seungyoun, who took the flower by the stem with gentle fingers. He opened his mouth to explain that it was just an act of friendship, nothing more. _It’s a—_

_It’s a gardenia._ Yet again, Seungyoun cut off his words abruptly.

A breath hitched in Seungwoo’s throat. No way could Seungyoun have known what the flower was. He never paid attention to the colourful plants in Seungwoo’s shop—or he never seemed to, anyway.

_Gardenia, symbolising purity and …love._ Seungyoun looked up from the flower and stared into Seungwoo’s eyes, unblinking.

Seungwoo raised his voice in an almost pleading way. _Seungyoun-ah, stop—_

Seungyoun continued. _Most important of all, gardenias convey the meaning of an untold or secret love. Am I right, hyung?_

Letting out a shaky breath, Seungwoo closed his eyes. He nodded slowly, afraid to even look at the expression on the other’s face.

_It’s lucky that I studied up on flower language, huh._ Seungwoo heard a soft huff coming from the figure in front of him. He peeked an eye open, only to find that the younger man was looking at him in amusement.

_So, hyung._ Seungyoun stepped closer as he lowered his voice, gaze fixated on Seungwoo. _What are you not telling me?_

Seungwoo bit his lower lip, nervous. He scratched at the back of his neck, trying to alleviate the anxiety gnawing away at his insides.

_I— I can explain this._ His mouth felt dry, but his words felt drier. _I ran out of the house in a hurry, and—_

_And let me guess, you grabbed the wrong one?_ The younger man took a step back as he narrowed his eyes. _Hyung, I know you. I know you know flowers better than the back of your hand._

_I know you meant to give the gardenia to me, Seungwoo-hyung._ Seungyoun finished, his voice almost in a whisper.

Seungwoo’s heart threatened to jump out of his ribcage at what he was about to say.

_Seungyoun-ah._ He began, eyes downcast. _I’m sorry, Seungyoun-ah._ _I couldn’t say anything. I was scared you didn’t feel the same; I was scared you just saw me as a hyung._

Seungwoo offered a weak smile at the other. _I’m sure you guessed this already, but I… love you, Seungyoun-ah. It might’ve been love at first sight, when you walked in through that door, or it might’ve been feelings manifested from my entire journey with you. I don’t know. All I know is that I love you, and I understand if this makes you feel weird and—_

A cold finger silenced Seungwoo’s lips.

_You’re not just another hyung._ Seungyoun’s words were soft and melodic. _You mean something special to me._

Seungwoo blinked as he tried to process those words. Smiling, the younger man took Seungwoo’s hand in his own and gently kissed it.

Even today, Seungwoo could still feel his heart thump as he recalled the feeling of warm lips meeting the back of his hand, all those years ago—

—When Seungyoun was still here.

Seungwoo tried to swallow past the sadness that welled up in the back of his throat. The sun had risen a couple more inches as he stood on the rooftop patio, sucked into his memories with Seungyoun.

Seungyoun said the letter was with someone else—it could only be Wooseok. Throwing his car keys into his pocket, Seungwoo paused. It felt like déjà vu, heading to Wooseok’s place like this. But the person that he went for last time was no longer there.

As he pulled up into Wooseok’s street, the familiar house came into view. Seungwoo could see dim lights peeking through the curtained windows.

Seungwoo was nervous. He didn’t know how many more letters there would be, but he knew that when the end came, there would be no more pieces of Seungyoun left for him to find. He didn’t know how he would even cope with the idea of returning to the person that he was during the days right after Seungyoun’s death, where he had nothing to look forward to, where he was an empty shell of who he once was.

He felt like he was hanging on by a bare thread, a thread woven from those letters, from their memories together.

Seungwoo rang the doorbell, as he did that day. But this time, instead of a fluffy head greeting him, he was met by a concerned Wooseok.

It was his first time seeing Wooseok since the funeral. Seungwoo twisted his lips into a strained smile, “Let me in?”

Wooseok turned sideways to make space for him in the narrow doorway, then asked quietly, “How’ve you been?”

“I… don’t know,” Seungwoo shook his head as he walked past Wooseok into his house.

“Yeah, that was a dumb question. You look like a ghost, by the way,” Wooseok sighed as he gestured towards the dark circles under Seungwoo’s eyes, “I know what you’re here for. Wait here.”

Seungwoo sat down on the couch and tiredly buried his head into his hands. He rubbed his eyes hard as he tried to clear out the cloudiness in his mind. Maybe Wooseok was right; maybe he was actually turning into a ghost.

Not long had passed when Wooseok returned to the living room with a familiar envelope in hand. He handed the letter to Seungwoo and mumbled, “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be in the next room if you need me.”

Seungwoo nodded his thanks and turned his eyes to the letter.

> _Dear Seungwoo-hyung,_
> 
> _Do you remember the day that you confessed to me? It was right after we fought, ironically. Honestly, if I hadn’t noticed the flower you held, I don’t know what would’ve happened instead. Maybe it would be more confrontation about my sleeping habits, I don’t know. It’s funny, though, because I actually ended up fixing my body clock after we got together, and I started sleeping early too. The inner grandpa in you rubbed off on me, I guess._
> 
> _You know, I really wasn’t sure if you liked me at that point. In that way, at least. Every time I was close to telling you everything, I asked myself, what if you reject me, what if you cut me off? Every time I thought of that, my heart dropped. I would rather love you in silence and in return, I would get to be by your side, even if it was just as a friend._
> 
> _I was never going to say anything—until I saw the gardenia in your hand. I felt like a spark of hope had been lighted in me. Maybe you actually liked me. Maybe I actually had a chance to be by your side as more than a friend. You know, my heart almost jumped out of my throat when I confronted you about that flower. I did have a faint worry that it didn’t mean anything, but for the most part, I think I was overcome with adrenaline, because I trusted that you knew your flower language. I took a leap of faith there, and honestly, I’m so glad I did._
> 
> _I asked Wooseok to keep this letter until you found the others and went to him yourself. To be honest, I was really running out of ideas as to where to hide these letters, haha. We made so many beautiful memories together that it was difficult to pinpoint the most significant ones. I treasure every single moment with you, and I’ll keep them in my heart forever._
> 
> _Remember the song I promised you? My love, the USB containing the song is on the table in my recording studio. You have the keys to it, but I know you probably haven’t gone in there since I left._
> 
> _I’m afraid this may be the last letter. I don’t know when I can next pick up a pen and write—no, I don’t even know if I have a chance to. The doctor told me two days ago that I don’t have much time left, though I wish so hard for it to be otherwise._
> 
> _I love you so much, Seungwoo-hyung._
> 
> _Yours Always,_
> 
> _Seungyoun._

Seungwoo let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding in. His eye sockets felt sore, as if they want to cry, but nothing could come out. Clearing his throat, Seungwoo called out for Wooseok.

The man popped his head into the room, studying Seungwoo from under his round glasses. He asked, “You okay?”

“More or less,” Seungwoo nodded, getting up from the couch, “thanks for today. And… thanks for keeping this letter for Seungyoun.”

Wooseok dismissed his gratitude with a wave and shooed him out, “Go do whatever you need to do. Call me if you need to talk.”

Before Seungwoo could utter another ‘thanks’, Wooseok had already shut the door in his face. He shook his head and got into his car, heading straight towards Seungyoun’s studio.

Before long, he had arrived. He peeked up at the building that loomed over him. Seungyoun’s recording studio was on one of the floors in here. The closer Seungwoo got to his destination, the more dread he felt. It was going to be over soon. The song was the last thing that Seungyoun left in this world.

Seungwoo stumbled through the door to the recording studio, his knuckles white as he gripped the doorframe with force. He shut his eyes for a brief moment to steel himself, took a deep breath and staggered towards Seungyoun’s table.

Right in the middle of the cold tabletop, there was a black USB. Unexpectedly, it was placed over yet another envelope, much to Seungwoo’s surprise. His lips pulled into a smile as he saw Seungyoun’s childish handwriting on the front of the letter— “ _To Seungwoo-hyung: do NOT open until you have heard the song!!!_ ”

Leaving the letter on the desk, Seungwoo started up the laptop and plugged in the USB. On it, there was one media file only—one that was named “ _I’ll be here for you_ ”.

As soon as Seungwoo clicked ‘play’, a melodic piano progression flowed out of the speakers. Seungwoo covered his mouth, tears blurring his vision.

A familiar voice began softly singing the first note.

> _Yesterday, you felt like you were running out of air_
> 
> _Today, you didn’t even have the strength to open your eyes_
> 
> _Worried that this might keep repeating_
> 
> _You just want to cry I know_
> 
> _I feel the same_
> 
> _When you turn off the lights and lie down_
> 
> _For some reason you can’t fall asleep_
> 
> _A night full of sorrow, you start crying, but_
> 
> _Goodnight, you can do better tomorrow_
> 
> _You can rest for a while_
> 
> _You can walk slowly_
> 
> _When your shadow is too much to handle_
> 
> _It’s okay (even after time goes by)_
> 
> _It’s okay (even after everything in this world changes)_
> 
> _I’m here (I’ll be there for you)_
> 
> _For you_
> 
> _It’s okay (even when tears fall down)_
> 
> _It’s okay (even when I start fading)_
> 
> _Don’t forget (I’ll be right beside you)_
> 
> _That I’m here for you_
> 
> _I’m here for you._

Seungwoo couldn’t stop his lips from trembling; even long after the last note, Seungyoun’s gentle voice played over and over again in his head.

He picked up the envelope, hands shaking.

> _My Dearest Seungwoo-hyung,_
> 
> _I know I said that the other letter was the final one, but… this one is really the last. First of all, I want to apologise to you, hyung. I know we promised to see the sunset in the Maldives during summer. We promised to go skiing in the Alpines come December. We promised to stay with each other for the rest of our lives. I’m sorry, hyung. I can’t keep any of those promises. I know you won’t blame me, but I still need to say it. I’m so, so sorry._
> 
> _Did you listen to the song? Don’t cry anymore, hyung, promise me. I know this is hard, but I don’t want you to think of the sad days. I don’t want you to be sad. Just know that ever since I met you, these have been the happiest days of my life. You must think that I’m so selfish for saying this, and for leaving you, but I really was so happy, Seungwoo-hyung. I’m sure that wherever I am right now, I am happy, too. I hope that you will only feel happiness, and be reminded of the happiness we shared, whenever you think of me._
> 
> _Hyung, please look forward to tomorrow with a smile on your face. Because I’ll always be here for you, no matter how much time has passed. As I know I will, wherever I am, I hope you also hold close your memories of me—our memories of us, together. Maybe one day, we would be able to meet again, and all of our sorrows would be forgotten. But before that, please be happy. That is the last thing I ask of you. If it were possible, I would spend my next life with you, and the next, and all the ones after._
> 
> _Goodbye for now, Seungwoo-hyung. I love you._
> 
> _Forever Yours,_
> 
> _Seungyoun._

Seungwoo gently touched the letter with his fingertips, tracing over where he imagined that Seungyoun’s hands might have lingered. The paper Seungyoun’s words were written on was far from flat. Seungwoo could only imagine the amount of tears that have fallen onto it, the amount of pain that the younger had gone through as he spelt out each word onto the paper.

As Seungwoo fumbled to rearrange the crinkled pages in his hands, something small fell out of the white envelope onto the floor. Bending down, he froze as his fingertip made contact with it.

It was a dried flower, with five distinct pale-yellow petals surrounding a bright yellow centre. A trembling breath hitched in Seungwoo’s throat as he closed his eyes.

Primrose.

_Eternal love._

He clutched the flower to his chest as if the action would allow him to be closer with his love.

“I know, Seungyoun-ah,” Seungwoo whispered through his tears with a shadow of a smile ghosting across his lips, “Wait for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! and many many thanks to the prompter, i hope my work has lived up to your expectations :) 
> 
> i know we have gone through so much as a fandom, i'm so proud of all of us for sticking through everything. i hope only good days are ahead of us now, for the boys and for one its too ♡
> 
> lyrics taken from pool (woodz) and i'll be here for you (x1).


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